


A Little Bit of Tenderness

by missbeizy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Poly!verse, Polyamory, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris and Will visit a sick Darren in his hotel room in NYC for a bit of TLC.  ;)  Hurt/comfort smut ahoy.  Set during 2013 Upfronts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Bit of Tenderness

Darren has just finished building the third layer of an incredibly kickass blanket fort when someone knocks loudly on his hotel room door. It's two in the morning and the someone is obviously someones, and the someones are obviously drunk. 

Like, seriously, his blanket fort was perfect. Goddamn. He needs new friends.

He hobbles grumpily over to the door and opens it.

"Darren!" Chris cries, as if--that were somehow a surprise. It's his room. They know that it's his room because he told them which room number was his.

"Christopher," he replies, nasally, just on the verge of another coughing fit.

"Oh, he's mad," Chris, clearly drunk, sighs. His pout is truly a thing to behold, and it would have a lot more power over Darren if he weren't so sick.

"He isn't mad," Will counters, clearly not as drunk as his boyfriend, and shoulders Chris into the room with an apologetic shrug. "He wouldn't go to our room. He was insistent that we come take care of you."

"I am the best boyfriend ever," Chris announces.

"Where's Ashley and Alla?" Darren asks, closing the door behind them.

"Ashley was even worse off than the love of my life, here. We dropped her off at her apartment. Alla went to bed."

"Good god he's been like this for a while, even with time to sober up?"

Will mouths, "Lightweight."

"Fuck you! I am not a lightweight. I come from a long line of hardcore alcoholics, I'll have you know."

"Is this the part where you sing me the song of your people in belches?" Darren asks.

Chris points at him. "You are not my friend."

Will grins, beaming like a lovesick puppy. "God, he's cute when he's stupid, isn't he?"

Darren smirks. He burrows back into his blanket fort without comment. The bed is covered in a half dozen tiny, wet bar sized orange juice bottles, tissues, cough drops, and ripped open packets of cold medicine tablets. 

He'd started to feel a lot worse after he'd got back to the hotel. A hot shower had helped tremendously, but he still feels like crap.

Chris falls into the chair beside the window and Will walks around the edge of the bed, sitting closer to Darren.

"I'm going to get you both sick," Darren says, blowing his nose into a tissue.

"It's too late for that already, don't worry about it," Will replies, leaning over and brushing a kiss across Darren's mouth. "Feeling any better?"

Darren kisses back thoughtlessly. "Worse, actually, but that's how it always is. I feel like shit, then I feel better than I look, then I feel worse than I look, then I'm over it in like twenty minutes." He gives Will a lopsided smile, then looks over at Chris red-cheeked and slumped into the chair. "Come over here and give me a kiss, Colfer."

Chris licks his bottom lip. "Plenty of room in my lap."

"God, you're a slutty drunk," Will says.

"And you've taken advantage of that ever since we started dating, so I won't hear any complaints about it now, asshole," Chris replies.

Will blows him a kiss.

Darren shrugs, pulling Will into his blanket fort. "Oh well, more mancandy for Darren."

"Hey," Chris pouts.

Will pops out of the blanket fort. "Plenty of room."

"My legs aren't working."

"Oh well," Will breathes, disappearing.

"His brain isn't working," Darren says sarcastically. They titter together under the blankets.

"I heard that," Chris growls.

Will reemerges again. "I have a plan. Come on, get up." Chris glares. "Please?" Chris stands, wobbling. "Get me some cool, damp cloths from the bathroom?"

Chris shrugs and does as he's asked, joining them on the bed.

"Okay, out of the blankets. And take your shirt off," Will says.

Darren grins. "This plan has a promising beginning."

Okay--so he really does like this plan and not just for the obvious sexual reasons. Will makes him lay down on his stomach in just his boxers and layers his heated back and neck with cold washcloths. And then Will straddles his waist and starts rubbing his neck and shoulders, and tells Chris to rub his calves and ankles and feet, and between that and the cloths soaking the heat from his skin he melts into the bed with a groan.

"I take back every mean thing I ever said about you guys," Darren moans, burying his face in a pillow.

"Actually we're just building up to blowjobs, that's two blowjobs, by the way, so really this is just--"

Will eyes Chris.

"Er. I mean. We love you, too, Darren?"

Will laughs, shrugging, and takes off his own shirt. "Not that I'm denigrating your creativity, honey. I'm just not sure if he's up for that."

Darren twists his face to get a better look at Will shirtless. Let's just say that it isn't a sight he likes to miss, because--damn. "My throat is pretty fucked up. No blowjobs for you."

Chris pouts, kneeling behind Will, and wraps his arms around Will's waist, kissing the back of his neck.

"Turn over?" Will asks Darren. 

They repeat the process with fresh towels, drawing the low grade fever out of Darren while rubbing the places where his muscles are aching the worst. It feels amazing--two sets of warm, eager, masculine hands on his body, touching so gently, no hint of sexual intention. In between the massages they feed him saltines and ginger ale and he licks salt off of their fingers.

He actually dozes off for a few minutes listening to Will and Chris talk softly about Central Park and the play they'd seen and the amazing Thai lunch they'd had. Chris wants to go to this little tea shop called Tea & Sympathy, goes on for a while about scones and clotted cream and the little shop next door that sells fish and chips and fried Mars bars.

Darren must not sleep for long because when he opens his eyes next, feeling leagues better; they're still kneeling over his body, Chris behind Will, and Will has his fingers in Darren's hair and is toying with his curls.

It's sweet and slow, but feeling better enables Darren to almost instantly translate the sensation into something much more base. He groans, arching his back as Will tugs at his hair.

"Feels good," he murmurs, trailing his hands up Will's jean-clad thighs. "Why are you two still wearing so much clothing, fuck."

Will grins, glancing at Chris. "He came around quick, huh?" Will reaches down, lacing his fingers with Darren's. "What would you like, sweetheart?"

Chris slides a hand down Will's stomach and into his pants. "He could watch me fuck you." His hand closes around Will's length.

Darren groans. "Shit." He really hates being sick; he's suddenly horny as fuck but he still feels the constant twitchy urge to cough and sneeze and there's nothing sexy about phlegm and snot. And he can't fucking think straight.

"Feeling better, then?" Will asks Chris, tilting his head back around to catch Chris' lips.

"Much." Chris is that kind of drunk; plastered one moment and sober the next. 

Will shivers, letting his head fall back on Chris' shoulder. He breathes out, obviously beginning to get hard in Chris' fist. 

Darren wets his lips and stares at the shape of Chris' hand moving inside of Will's jeans. He feels his cock twitch. "Fuck," he whispers.

Chris unbuttons Will's pants and pushes both the denim and the cotton of his briefs down around his thighs, then goes back to jacking him, slow and firm.

Will's eyes go dark, flicker across Darren's. "Wanna make you feel good. What do you want?"

He's definitely not up for much--nothing athletic, if avoidable. His muscles feel fucked up to the extreme. 

He watches Chris suck and kiss Will's neck, mesmerized by the blossom of flushed, red marks appearing in the wake of his mouth. Chris looks buzzed and blissed out, his free hand pinching Will's nipples in turn, making them harden and darken.

"Wanna watch Chris fuck you," Darren answers.

God bless the cold medicine; it would've taken a bit more coaxing before he admitted to that upfront. He's still slightly unsure about their arrangement and where he fits into it, though they've often referred to both him and Mia as their "boyfriend" and "girlfriend".

It's kind of the best thing ever, but that doesn't mean he understands it completely.

Will's eyes track warmly over Darren's mostly naked body. "Is that all?" he asks, scraping fingernails down Darren's chest and belly, teasing the elastic waistband of his boxers. "I could suck you off while he fucks me," he goes on. "Take you deep into my throat; you wouldn't even have to move."

"Fuck," Chris says, dragging his fingertips across Will's defined hip bones. His hands circle back around to the sweet, perky swell of his ass, and Darren guesses that he must spread Will's cheeks, because Will inhales suddenly and all the muscles across his rock hard chest and stomach twitch.

"Baby, please--" Will whimpers, hips circling back to front.

"Tell me you have lube," Chris says urgently to Darren.

"Shit, yeah, um--toiletry bag, bathroom." Chris is gone in a flash and back just as quickly, snapping the cap and coating his fingers before going back to exactly what he'd been doing moments before. Will fishes a condom from his wallet, then kneels out of his jeans and underwear, and Chris does the same with all of his clothes.

Darren stares at them both, mouth watering.

Whatever they want to label him within their odd open relationship, he's going to stick with his own personal label of "lucky motherfucker". Jesus fuck, he wouldn't question this if told to at gun point.

"Did you tell Darren what we did last night?" Chris asks, deceptively sweet as his dirty little fingers stroke the cleft of Will's ass--and then the divide, stroking his dusky hole with three fingertips, just around the rim.

Darren shifts his hips, letting his erection back onto his stomach as it fills hungrily at the sight.

"Our room has floor to ceiling glass windows," Will begins, breathing heavily, eyelids fluttering as Chris strokes him, the moist noises loud in Darren's ears. "Chris--" He gasps. "--fucked me up against them. Made me keep my hands still on the--my legs spread--fucked me and jerked me off all over the glass, pounding my prostate--"

Darren groans, fisting himself, unable to not, at that. "Oh, fuck."

"You were so good," Chris breathes, twisting a finger inside of Will. "Took me deep, didn't move, not once--came hard, begged so sweet, fuck, Dare, wish you could've seen it." 

As one finger becomes two becomes three, Will's body lists forward. He's eventually on all fours crouched over Darren's torso, skin glistening with sweat and flushed, his back arched and his ass up. Chris is cupping the curve of one buttock, holding Will open as he spears him with soaked fingers.

Darren whimpers, arching his neck up, and Will meets him halfway, kissing him dirty and fast. "So hard, baby," Will drawls in that sweet half-accent, licking into Darren's mouth. "Gonna take care of you, okay?" 

"Please--"

Chris rips a condom packet open with his teeth and spits the top half aside. He too is glistening already, stark and pale in the low lamplight of the room, all long lines and sharp edges and wild hair. He looks like some madman's Celtic fantasy, or better yet a Nordic one; a snow nymph, glittering and dangerous, capable of twisting men around his fingers with the flicker of an eyelash or the crook of a finger. Darren can't breathe when he's like this, feral and hungry and unstoppable.

Chris rubs the shaft of his cock between Will's cheeks, not letting the head catch on his hole, just mercilessly humping the divide.

Will bends, gasps in a breath as he breaks from Darren's mouth. "Chris, fuck--"

"Shift down so you can get at his dick," Chris says, and tugs.

Darren has no complaints about that, not about attention to his dick or about the view as Will bends over his cock and licks the head into his mouth. Chris hovers just behind him, corded up forearm and wrist holding his thick cock between Will's spread cheeks, lining up the head against his hole.

"Oh my god, yes," Darren breathes when Will hollows his cheeks and sucks him down to the root. 

He could come from this far too easily, so he focuses his vision on the black leather cuff still strapped around Chris' left wrist and tries to breathe through the tight as fuck, wet suction, Will bobbing around his cock as if it were a Popsicle on a hot day. 

He isn't fucking around; he never does when it comes to giving Darren attention. He does go still, though, when Chris pushes into him with one smooth, non-stop stroke. His whole body tenses up, muscles cording at his throat and collarbone, and he pants desperately down against Darren's balls, shoulder blades bunching.

"So fucking tight," Chris swears, spreading those cheeks even wider. "Take it. Yeah, take it all--fuck--"

Darren's cock throbs upward, tapping Will's chin. He's paralyzed with arousal; all he can do is wait for Will to get his shit together. Chris pulls back, stomach and hips flexing. He watches Darren's face as he slams back into Will roughly.

"Yes," Will gasps, hands twisting in the bedspread. "Harder. Come on. Fuck my ass."

Chris slaps Will's right buttock with an unforgiving hand. "Shh."

"Fuck," Darren hisses.

"Suck him," Chris breathes roughly. "Come on, he's fucking dripping; lick it up, honey."

Darren groans when Will's mouth finds him again. He floats dizzily through the next few minutes, listening to the wet slap of Chris fucking into Will with carefully measured thrusts. Will grunts and jerks forward at the end of every thrust, sending vibrations along Darren's cock that only make things progress faster.

Darren slides one hand into Will's hair and twists. "So fucking good, Will." Will is jacking him and sucking him, not allowing a single inch of flesh to go unattended. His tongue is eager, chasing every drop of pre-come and teasing Darren's weeping slit every other pass.

"Put--put a finger in me?" Darren croaks, thighs spreading. He doesn't want much but some blunt pressure would feel nice, would feel so good to get something, anything up inside of his ass right now, just to set the orgasm off.

"You're catching on," Chris groans breathlessly, hips jerking again and again and again, his big, hard cock withdrawing to the tip and then sinking home again.

Will gathers a gob of lubricant and pushes Darren's boxers down all the way. He presses two fingertips against Darren's hole, rubbing it in hard little circles.

"Shit, fuck, don't--fucking put it in me," Darren curses, then sags with relief when a single, easy digit slides home. "Oh fuck yes, come on--"

It's messy and wet and he doesn't last much longer beyond that; Will is just too fucking good at giving head, and that single finger twisting crooked and unrelenting against Darren's prostate is more than enough to ruin him. He spreads his legs and thrusts deep, finding the back of Will's throat.

Will swallows around him, throat muscles convulsing in a gag, then pulls off, replacing his mouth with his fist.

"Swallow it," Chris gasps out, fucking Will faster. "Swallow his come."

That sweet mouth closes around him again and Will jacks him, hard and fast, and he can't wait any longer--he comes with a sob, eyes rolling shut as Willow licks and swallows until there's nothing left. He sucks at the head with hard, short draws, dragging out every drop that Darren has left to give.

It's only when he's soft and Will sits up a bit on his hands that Darren sees how hard Will is, aching and leaking between his thighs. His cock bobs frantically as Chris fucks him, slapping his stomach wetly with every thrust.

Chris bends over Will's back, eyes on Darren's as he kisses Will's sweaty head. "Wanna come, baby?"

"Please," Will whines.

"Come all over that pretty face?" he adds, and Will stares at Darren's stubble-covered cheek and long eyelashes.

"Oh fuck yes, can I--Darren--"

"Yeah, yeah--shit."

Chris almost quite literally fucks Will forward on his knees all the way up Darren's torso. Darren breathes in the thick, musky smell of sweat and man and come as Will's cock hovers just in front of his mouth, plump and thick and hard, surrounded by Chris' hand.

"I--I can--just keep fucking me, don't stop," Will says, and replaces Chris' hand with his own. "Close," Will breathes, muscles rippling across his belly and thighs. 

His hand flies around his cock, the head dark and swollen. He's shaking and sweating, moments from coming; Darren parts his lips eagerly. Will stares down at his face and that's apparently all it takes to tip him over; he groans as he begins to come, shooting fast and short and jerky all over Darren's nose and eyelashes and cheeks and chin and into his open, waiting mouth. 

"Oh, fucking shit. Shit." He falls forward, catching his weight on the headboard. Darren can't help but wrap his lips around Will's pulsing, softening erection, sucking until he's sobbing and twisting to get away from the oversensitivity.

"Come in me," Will whispers desperately, clutching Chris. "Need it, come on. Fuck, fill me up with your come." His pelvis writhes, sending him back onto Chris with just as much force as Chris' forward thrusts pounding him.

Chris groans and wraps his arms around Will's torso, pelvis jackhammering as he gives in and comes and comes and comes, making everything--their bodies and the bed and the damned lamp on the nightstand--shake.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Chris breathes, slumping forward against Will's back.

And Darren sneezes spectacularly into the silence.

Will and Chris both crack up, gasping for air. "Bless you," Will says.

"Gesundheit," Chris adds. "Tissue?"

Darren cleans the spray and the come off of his face, smirking. "Ha, ha, assholes." 

But it's sweet after, as it always is, Will on one side and Chris on the other, and he gets his kisses from Chris then, soft and slow. It's a well kept secret between them that Chris is a cuddler and likes to come down slowly. He's more willing to get close after sex than before, which Darren has always found kind of interesting.

"Mm," Darren hums, as Chris pulls away and slings a leg over his hip. "Missed that."

He falls asleep sandwiched between them, feeling better than he has in days.


End file.
